Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cold… cold and darkness… water encasing her limbs in icy blackness. She couldn’t breathe, her fingers were too numb to catch herself. Flowing water and rocks battered her young frame, swept her along without mercy.

She opened her mouth to cry out, and frigid water filled her throat, her lungs. She choked and flailed, but she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find the surface, couldn’t find anything to grab.

So cold… so cold, the water and her clothing weighed her down. She couldn’t breathe, and she was so weak… one final try…

Water poured into her throat and lungs again, and she sank beneath the river surface, her last despairing cry trapped in her throat. ‘Faither… help me…!’

Thora shot upright, chest heaving, sweat beading across her face as she gasped for air. The dream had felt so real…no, not dream. A vision.

Thora gulped in air and forced her mind to focus. The dream was vague, as they often were, but if she focused, she would know more than the images alone might tell her.

The river… someone in the river… drowning. They were drowning. No, they would be drowning soon, but it had not yet happened.

The pieces fell into place in her mind. Out beyond the castle walls, there was a village boy, a son of one of the castle guards, acting on a jibe from some of his friends. Very soon, he would slip and fall into the water, to be washed away. If nothing was done, he would drown, and they would not find his body until far too late.

The season of celebration would become one of mourning, at least for the guard and his close kinfolk.

She couldn’t let it happen.

Thora rose from the bed and grabbed her cloak, shoving her feet into her boots. She didn’t bother with any other clothing - the vision was too strong, and she knew that what was to happen would occur very soon. She couldn’t wait long enough to dress, or she might be too late.

Aedan was still lying on the floor, motionless and apparently asleep. Thora hesitated for a moment. Aedan was stronger than she was, and he’d be able to help her. But he didn’t believe in her visions. Besides, she had no idea what it would take to rouse him, and she couldn’t waste that time, and whatever precious seconds would be spent arguing.

With a final shake of her head, Thora grabbed the lantern the servants had left, lit it from the fire, then grabbed a blanket and hurried to the door, racing as fast as she dared for the riverbank. Every fiber of her being whispered of impending danger, of a life hung in the balance and a fate in flux, like a coin spinning on its edge until it finally toppled to show the upturned face.

She was so focused she nearly stepped into the river herself before she stopped, managing to halt just in time. Her brow furrowed, her heart beating fast in panic and a growing sense of desperation as she searched for the child.

If she could only catch him before he reached the river and fell in…

A faint splash, and a loud cry, came from further upstream. Thora whirled and raced for the noise, praying she’d not be too late.

Aedan was trying to find a comfortable position to sleep when he heard Thora sit bolt upright in bed, gasping as if she’d had a nightmare. For a moment, he was tempted to sit up and offer her some comfort. But he had no idea what to say, and in any case, if Thora was at all like himself, she wouldn’t want company after a nightmare.

He’d never liked being seen as vulnerable, and Thora seemed as carefully guarded as he was. With a sigh that might have been mistaken for a soft snore, Aedan settled back into his blankets, determined to ignore Thora’s restlessness.

The determination lasted until he heard her rise and tug on her boots, followed by the whisper of her cloak, and a sudden flare of light as she lit the lantern. A guarded glance from half-closed eyes showed him she’d dressed in a hurry and was clearly preparing to leave the room. He saw her glance toward him for a moment and feigned sleep, then watched in disbelief as she turned and hurried from the room.

He’d had nightmares as a lad, but nothing that would send him running about the halls of an unfamiliar castle in the dark, let alone when surrounded by people he didn’t trust. Aedan cursed under his breath and rolled out of the blankets to grab his own boots and cloak to follow her.

If this is all for some snack from the kitchens, I may well throttle the lass…

Thora didn’t even seem to hear his footsteps behind her, focused as she was on her midnight errand. Aedan felt his concern increase, then increase again when Thora made her way toward one of the doors leading outside.

She seemed to have some goal in mind, some purpose which made her almost careless of her surroundings, but for the life of him, he couldn’t guess what it was. Baffled, he followed her out, through a postern gate in the wall, and toward the river, a black, gleaming ribbon of chill ebony just visible against the snow-covered ground.

Thora didn’t hear his footsteps behind her then either. In fact, she seemed not to notice anything until she’d nearly stumbled into the river. Only then did she stop, turning this way and that. The lamplight, gleaming on the edges of her face, showed a clear expression of distress, her eyes wide and staring as if she expected a disaster to fall on them at any moment.

Aedan was about to step forward and demand an explanation when he heard it. The dull splash of something falling in the river, and the cry of a frightened child.

Thora whipped around and hurried in the direction of the sound. Aedan followed her, cursing in his head.

Seconds later, Thora stumbled to a halt and set the lantern on a rock on the shore. “Hold on!” Her voice was high with anxiety.

And no wonder. In the light of the lamp, Aedan could just see what had caught her attention - a small lad of perhaps eight or ten winters old, caught in the river’s current and struggling weakly to escape. Even as Aedan spotted him, the boy slipped off the rock he’d been trying to perch against and went under with a cry. The cry was cut off with a choking gurgle, hands flailing wildly as the boy disappeared briefly beneath the surface.

Thora rushed to the edge of the river, and Aedan saw her boots sinking into the icy mud, the sludge dragging her down and slowing her steps, even as she strove with all her might to reach the bairn.

She’d never make it in time. She didn’t have the strength required to battle through the mud and the water. In moments, the boy would slip past her, and the river was too cold and too fast for her to catch him.

Aedan raced to her side, pulling off his cloak as he went. “Dinnae move. I’ll get him.”

A swift motion to kick off his boots, and Aedan plunged into the icy, ink-hued water. Cold drove his breath from him in a grunt of shock and almost-pain, but he forced himself forward, focused on the point in the river where the boy would surely be carried past in a moment or two.

The child struggled to the surface for a moment, choking and flailing, just long enough for Aedan to see where he was, before he was dragged under again. Aedan took a deep breath, as deep as he could manage when the cold seized his muscles like iron and dragged him down, then dove after the child.

He got one hand on a sleeve, the other on a bundle of fabric he thought was a cloak, and heaved upward and back, dragging the boy toward the surface and himself. Both of them tumbled for a brief moment, tangled in the cloth, then Aedan managed to get his feet planted in the muck of the river bottom, and his arm around a skinny little waist, and shove them both more or less upright.

The child spluttered in the air, coughing weakly. His hands scrabbled at Aedan’s shirt. Aedan took a moment to regain his balance, then caught the lad’s flailing arm. “Put yer arms around me neck, rest again’ me back, and hold on lad.”

He pulled the boy’s hands into place, tugged the small, shaking body against his own, and began to fight his way back to shore. It was difficult, immeasurably so, burdened as he was with the weight of the bairn, but he finally managed.

Thora was waiting on the shore, lantern and cloaks in hand, when he managed to finally stagger free of the river’s chill embrace. On his back, the child was limp, and in the lantern light, Aedan saw his lips were blue-tinged, his face pale.

“Here, give him tae me.” Thora wrapped his cloak about him and took the bairn. She wrapped the child in her own garment, holding him close, then folded a blanket around the boy and knelt beside the lantern. “He’s chilled, and shocked by the cold… I think there’s water in his chest too.”

Swiftly, easily, she tipped the child and began to alternate rubbing his back and pressing on his stomach. After a second, the bairn gasped, coughed, and choked out a stream of water, before beginning to cry. Thora rubbed his back reassuringly, gently. “There, lad, ye’re safe… ye’re safe…”

Aedan watched her as she began to chafe the boy’s hands, face and chest, working to get the blood flowing in his limbs, and to ease the hitching of his breath. Though a part of him was keeping watch, and his hands were busy rubbing feeling back into his toes and replacing his boots, the rest of his thoughts were occupied with other things.

He hadn’t realized Thora had a blanket with her, but it was clear she’d come at least somewhat prepared.

She came prepared… she kent something would happen. She was looking for the boy afore he fell. She was worried afore she could have kenned.

How did she ken? She couldnae have seen the lad leave… we dinnae even ken where he came from. If we’d come when he first cried out - if anyone had - we’d have been too late. He’d have drowned, or frozen tae death.

But Thora had known and had come prepared to save the child’s life. If he hadn’t been there, she’d have gone into the river herself. She’d clearly anticipated her own clothing being too wet and chilled to be of any use.

Her visions. All along, he’d sneered at them, and thought them products of too much family indulgence, and too much exposure to superstitions and nonsense. He’d gone along with her plan because she had forced him to, but he’d never seen the point.

Some part of him, he realized, had been waiting for the moment he could look at her with triumphant eyes and say ‘I told ye so… just a lot o’ foolishness and empty words’. Some part of him had been waiting for the moment when he could confidently expose her lies, or her folly, and turn away, satisfied that he’d proven his point.

And yet, there was no other explanation, no way she could have known the lad’s life was in danger, unless she’d somehow foreseen it. Unless what he’d thought was a simple nightmare had somehow been a warning of what was to come, of the life that might have been lost without their intervention.

Aedan had always prided himself on believing only in things he could see, touch, and verify with his own senses. Likewise, he’d always prided himself on being able to discern and recognize a truth when it was presented to him, even if it went against something he’d been sure of before.

Thora’s visions were such a truth, and the proof was in her arms, in the face of the little boy with his drooping eyes and uneven breaths, who even now clung to her and whimpered in cold and fading fear.

Thora looked up at him a moment later. “He’s nae in immediate danger now, if I’ve remembered me sister’s teachings aright, but still he needs the healer, and more warmth than we can give him here.”

Aedan nodded. “I’ll carry him. Ye tak’ the lamp and lead the way. We’ll go round tae the main gate and tell the guards what’s happened, so they can alert the lad’s kinfolk.”

Thora nodded and handed the boy up into his arms before rising. She staggered a little, her legs likely numb from kneeling on the ground, then lifted the lantern and began to lead the way back to the main path.

They’d scarcely come in sight of the gate before one of the men cried out and dashed forward. “Keevan!”

The man was followed by two of his fellow guards, both wary as he stumbled to a stop. “Keevan… what… Keevan…”

“He needs warmth and a tisane or two from the healer, but ‘twill be all right.” Thora’s voice was low and soothing. “He was out by the river, and fell in, but me husband and I happened tae hear him fall. We managed tae rescue him.”

“Me wife managed to rescue him. She saw him afore I did.” Aedan spoke up. It was the truth, in more than one sense, and he refused to accept all the credit for the rescue. He couldn’t, not when he knew that without Thora’s gift, neither of them would have been there to save the lad.

The lad’s father, nodded. “I kent he and some o’ the other boys were darin’ each other tae foolishness, but I didnae see him go…” The man’s face was pale in the light of lantern and torches. After a moment, he looked up, eyes shining with gratitude and relief. “Thank ye, me laird, m’lady…thank ye fer savin’ me son.”

“Nae need fer thanks.” Aedan gestured to the wall. “Return tae yer post, and the lady and I will see the lad tae the healers. She’ll send someone fer yer wife, if she’s about.”

“She’ll be in the castle… she works as a kitchen maid…” The man was muttering, near incoherent as two of his fellows guided him back toward the gate.

Another of the guards approached. “I’ll wake the healer and a lad tae carry word tae the wife.” He hesitated. “Thank ye, me laird, m’lady. Keevan’s all they have in the world.”

Aedan nodded. The strain of his own time in the river was wearing on him, and he wanted nothing more than to return to his blankets and sleep. For a fortnight, if possible.

Within half a candle-mark, the bairn was resting comfortably in the healer’s cottage. He and Thora had both been dosed with a strengthening tisane, and a potion the healer swore would ward off illness, along with a small measure of distilled spirits to chase the cold away.

Then it was back to their rooms, to their fire, to change out of their chilled, wet clothing. Thora was too weary for modesty, and Aedan was too cold and exhausted to appreciate it. Even so, his mind was oddly restless as he sought his blankets.

Thora’s visions were real, or at least they had been this time. Did that mean the ‘danger’ she foresaw for his clan was real as well?